Field Trip
by Silvestria
Summary: Married!Matthew/Mary car based fluff inspired by the latest pictures from season 3 filming. Happy times!


_A/N: Dried up 2/3rds of the way through the final chapter of Consolation Prize - FML - but I seem happy to write everything but that! And here is a piece of totally pointless fluff based on the latest car pictures released last night. GO SEASON THREE! MARRIED MATTHEW AND MARY! WHO DOESN'T WANT IT! WOOOOOOOO!_

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Lady Mary Crawley had been remarkably restrained on the subject of her lord and master's driving skills so far but when he abruptly stopped the car and reversed off the road and into a field, she had to make some sort of comment.

"Darling..." she began, putting her hand on his arm in a conciliatory fashion, "what are you doing?"

Matthew pulled up the hand brake with a wrench. "I need to consult the map."

"But I have been consulting the map for the whole trip!"

"Ah, yes..." He seemed embarrassed. "But you see, my darling, I don't know where we are."

"I do!" cried Mary.

He shifted in his seat to face her very seriously. "Light of my life, please tell me where we are."

"Oh, Matthew, we're in a field!" she replied and lost all pretence of gravity, clasping her hand over her mouth and collapsing into giggles.

"I can see that but-" His expression relaxed into affectionate indulgence and he shook his head, grabbing the map off her lap easily, despite her weak attempts to keep hold of it.

After examining it for a few moments, he looked back at his wife, almost recovered from her mirth, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks pink. No, he told himself, he would not be distracted – again.

"Mary," he began meekly, "would you mind telling me which field we are in on this map?"

"He wants to know which field we're in!" she announced to the birds in the sky with another explosion of mirth, lifting her hands in the air and letting them fall with slower elegance.

"I really don't see what's so funny about getting lost on the way to a dinner engagement," said Matthew, though his lip twitched. "We're going to be terribly late."

"Oh, pity..." She tilted her head to one side. "Do you care two straws about the Barringtons, Matthew? Because I don't."

"He's not..." said Matthew, valiantly trying to be fair, "the most interesting fellow, is he? But seriously, Mary, we can't just _not go_! I'm sure if we only continue on this road we'll come to a crossroads and a signpost soon enough."

"Obviously," replied his wife, enjoying his agreement with her in a little moment of triumph. "I could have told you that but you would go on about the map!"

"Damn the map!"

"Temper, temper, my darling!"

The desire to laugh was only the second strongest impulse at that moment and they both gave in to the strongest. Her hands slid up his arms to his shoulders and she kissed him deeply and lovingly, an act to which he responded with corresponding ardour.

When the distraction reached its natural conclusion, several long minutes later, Matthew rested his forehead against hers and complained again, rather more breathlessly, "We can't not go, darling. It wouldn't be right, not unless we've truly broken down."

Her lips brushed delicately against his once more before she leaned back, reached one hand underneath the wheel and pulled at a wire until it came off in her hand.

"Now we have!" she cried smugly.

Matthew stared at her in open-mouthed incredulity. "My God, Mary, what – what have you done? What are we going to do?"

"Well, we're not going to be having dinner at Barrington Hall, that's for sure!"

Matthew put his hands on the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths. "We're going to have to walk to the next village," he muttered, "and we're going to have to send someone out for this car and only hope it doesn't rain in the mean time, while we will have to find another car to get us home and who knows but we might not make it before tomorrow so-"

"Oh, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud!" cried Mary gaily, kissing his cheek and squeezing his arm fondly. "It'll be an adventure; something to tell the grandchildren."

Matthew swallowed, this delightful picture momentarily driving out more practical considerations.

"Well, we better get walking if we want to find habitation before dark," continued Mary in a less sentimental vein. "I do hope you're prepared to carry me, darling; my shoes may not make it very far on hard ground."

Matthew glowered at her. "I most certainly am not!" He glared a bit more before getting out, slamming his door shut and coming round to open hers.

She was completely undaunted and asked him merrily as she got out of the car, glancing up at him from under long lashes, "Tell me though, why did you take the vehicle off the road in the first place?"

He shut the car door behind her but did not move his hand from the side, trapping her between them.

"So that other traffic could overtake us easily, of course," he replied.

She raised her eyebrows, a little breathless from their proximity. "What other traffic would that be, dearest?" She glanced away in either direction and lowered her voice. "We're quite alone here."

"Yes." His eyes dipped and rose again with intention. "I can see that."

With a sigh of happy inevitability, their lips met again as Matthew took a step forward, pressing her against the hot, shuddering side of the car, his arms finding their favourite hold on her waist as she moulded herself against him. The heat of the hard metal, the firmest of Matthew's arms and the softness of his wife in between them all melded together until, if they had not been in the middle of a field and the afternoon fast progressing, they might have been tempted to throw caution to the winds.

Caution was not thrown, however, and the kisses slowed until eventually they stopped completely and they rested together, cheek to cheek, entwined in the other's arms, their hearts beating as one.

Matthew took a deep breath and let his arms release her. "Come on, love," he murmured, "you wanted to walk and who knows how many miles it'll be to the next village."

With a sigh, she pushed herself off the side of the car though without releasing her arm from round his waist and his remained round her shoulders. They began to amble away, warm and contented with each other, on the grassy verge by the road.

"I don't know why people bother to invite us for dinner at all," muttered Matthew, absently pressing a kiss somewhere between her ear and her hat. "We're terrible company."

She raised her eyebrows, nonplussed. "Speak for yourself; I am always excellent company!"

"No." He squeezed her shoulders a little tighter. "I don't mean individually. But you have to admit that it must be dreadful being in company with us together."

She made a non-committal noise and swayed into him on the rough ground, clutching him more tightly.

"Do you think we'll ever get better at it?" Matthew asked, steadying her gently.

She raised her head to meet his eyes. "At what, dear?"

"Being in company together."

She laughed at that, her words swept away in the breeze. "Oh, I very much hope not!"

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_A/N: Thank you so much for reading and I'd love to know what you think! :)_


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